


This Life We Choose

by nighting_gale17



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Married Buddie, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-05 18:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19046155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighting_gale17/pseuds/nighting_gale17
Summary: Finale fix-it ficWhen a bomb blows up a firetruck, Buck finds himself helpless, trapped underneath the ladder truck.Freddie is a little more broken and a lot more vengeful this time around.+the fire fam scenes we were robbed of





	This Life We Choose

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! wow, I've been working on this since the finale! Anyway, I was just curious to explore what Buck might have been thinking during this scene, and of course, I felt we were robbed of fire fam scenes thanks to Alli (>:( ) so this is my solution.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this! Comments and kudos make my world go 'round!
> 
> (PS, leave a comment if you find the reference i make to a certain book series/movie in this fic ;)

Chaos.

Unbearable agony was the first thing he registered in his throbbing head. It was like a burning, hot fire making every nerve scream and he couldn’t help the sob that escaped him as the severity of it registered in his brain. He tried to crawl forward using his arms to pull himself away from the fire but it was no use, the pain just got worse as he tried to pull away. Buck gasped out as he felt the truck move, grinding against the bone in his leg and a pained cry tore from his throat as he collapsed back onto the ground.

He heard the crunching sound of footsteps on glass over the high-pitched ringing echoing in his ears and he blearily managed to open his eyes, a tiny blossom of hope expanding in his chest. His team. They weren’t—They weren’t on the truck with him so that must be them, coming over to check on him. “Cap?” he rolled his head to the side, panting heavily as he struggled to get his blurry vision to focus on the boots in front of him. “Cap?”

“You’re new here.”

Buck’s breath hitched and his blood ran cold at the sound of that voice. That wasn’t Chimney. That wasn’t anyone on his team. He blinked a couple times, the blurriness starting to fade and he felt dread coil up in the pit of his stomach when he saw a kid crouching in front of him, staring at him with a sort of detached curiosity and rage burning in his eyes. “You’re Buck.” he said it as a statement, not a question.

Buck was confused. Who was this kid? How did he know his name? Why was he here and not the rest of his team? His gaze traveled down the kids body and he felt the horror in him grow when he saw the bomb vest he had strapped to him, a gun in one hand and a dead man’s trigger in the other.

“This is even better than I could have hoped for.”

What the fuck? His confusion was causing the throbbing in his head to increase and he slowly moved his hand up to his face and then winced, hissing when his fingers brushed his temple and a fresh wave of pain raced through his head.

He let his hand fall limp onto the ground, desperately trying to ignore the alarming amount of blood on his fingers. Buck could feel his breathing starting to pick up, the shock and panic were already beginning to set in. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, desperately trying to pace his unsteady breathing. He can’t go into shock. He needs—he needs—

Tears dripped down his face and he clenched his hand into a fist, growling out a sob when he heard a loud ‘pop’ and the truck moved again, rocking on his leg and sending a fresh wave of agony through his body. He felt himself get light-headed for a moment from the pain and blood-loss and the panic tightened in his chest. Why was no one up here helping him? What was going on? Where was everyone?

Muffled voices shouting registered in his ears and he slowly opened his eyes again. The kid was standing in front of him again, shouting at the sirens and police barricaded a few feet away in the intersection. Out of the corner of his eye, though, Buck saw his headset. Without even really thinking about it, while the kid’s back was turned he reached out and barely managed to hook his fingers across the band, biting down hard on his bottom lip to keep himself from crying out. Pain blossomed in his chest when he reached and he carefully brought his arm back and put the headset on with minimal difficulties. He needed to figure out what was going on.

“Hello?” he rasped into the mic, praying it was still working and hadn’t been terribly damaged in the explosion. 

“Buck, is that you? Oh my god, you're alive.” Chimney’s voice crackled on the other side of the connection. “How are you doing?”

“N-Not great.” Buck whispered, desperately trying to ignore how his hands had started shaking. He was definitely going into shock. “I can’t—I can’t move, Cap. I’m pinned. W-What’s going on?”

“Just hang in there, Buck,” Chimney said calmly, but Buck could hear the tension in his voice. “There was a bomb under the truck. That kid is keeping us from getting to you.”

“Y-Yeah.” Buck murmured quietly, blearily focusing his gaze on the kid pacing in front of him. “He’s got a vest. And a gun.” his vision swam when he lifted his head up and he quickly lowered it back down onto the ground, pressing his forehead into the asphalt. He tried to steady his uneven breathing, could feel the shock setting in as the pain lessened and his leg started to go numb. Not a good sign, he knows, but he couldn’t help but feel a little grateful.

“Hey, hey, stay awake for me Buckaroo, alright?” Chimney’s voice was muffled slightly, like he was trying to talk to him while Buck’s head was underwater. “What hurts the most?”

“My leg.” Buck whimpered, unable to stop the tears from dripping down his cheeks. “I-It’s starting to go numb now, though, but it—it still hurts, Cap.”

“Alright, alright, just hang in there, buddy. Anything else?” his voice sounded urgent.

“Um.” It was getting hard to think. “My head. I think. My—My chest hurts but I don’t,” he took a deep breath, licking his lips hesitantly, “I don’t think anything else is broken, though.”

“Well, from what we can see, it looks like that pretty face of yours is still in one piece.” Chimney was teasing him, he knew that, somewhere in the back of his mind. ‘One piece’ echoed in his head and exhaled a sob because—because his leg might not be in one piece. And,  _ god _ , it hurt so much. 

“Okay, alright, hey, Buck, we need you to stay calm, bud.” There was a tinge of panic to his voice that made the panic in Buck grow. He must be in deep shit if Chim was freaking out, he was the epitome of calm, he never freaked out.

“I-I don’t want to die,” he slurred, pressing his cheek into the blissfully cool asphalt underneath him. “Chim-Chimney, I’m scared.”

There was silence on the other end of the headset and Buck squeezed his eyes shut as another sob heaved through his chest. God, he was all alone, wasn’t he? He was completely alone and no one was coming to rescue him and he was going to die out here—

“You’re not going to die, Buck.” Chimney’s voice was sharp and firm in his ears. “You’re not alone, okay? We’re going to get you out of there. You just got to hang on for us. Can you do that?”

Buck thought about the firetruck crushing his leg, the sharp agony slowly disappearing as the shock set in. He thought about never seeing Maddie again, or Eddie, or Christopher. “Yeah.” he took a deep breath, forcing himself to open his eyes again. “Okay.”

There was more shouting and yelling and sirens and, God, Buck felt like his head was going to split open. He just wanted everything to be quiet. He could feel the tantalizing edges of darkness in the back of his head, could see it reaching out to grab him from the edges of his vision. But then—

His thoughts froze when he heard the unmistakable click of a gun above his head. His breath caught in his throat when he managed to focus again, realizing the kid was crouching beside him, now, his gun pointed at Buck’s temple. “I want Captain Nash!” he screamed, a slight hysteria to his voice.

Buck struggled to push himself up slightly so his face wasn’t in the ground anymore, terror almost freezing over the pain he was in. Almost. “W-What?” he started, only to fall roughly back on the ground when something smacked into the back of his head. He cried out at the hit, the taste of blood exploding in his mouth when his chin hit the ground as pain rocketed through his skull from the hit.

He could hear Chimney’s voice yelling in his headpiece, but his head was swimming too much for him to make anything out. Through the tears blurring his vision, he thought he could see—Bobby? Yes, that was definitely Bobby walking towards him but what was he doing here? He looked like the picture of calm but even from this far away Buck could see the fear in his eyes.

“I’ve been watching you.” The kid started speaking again. “You’re close. Like father and son.” he sneered at Bobby, his gaze briefly glaring at Buck with such hate he was taken aback. Who was this kid? “Like my dad and I were.” he spat at Bobby, his gaze moving back to glare at the Captain but the gun never wavered from where it pointed at Buck’s head.

“Freddie. Listen, I am sorry about your father.” Bobby began calmly. Always calm. Buck let his eyes slip closed for a brief moment as he talked. “We were just doing our jobs.”

“I thought you’d be on the truck.” the kid said calmly, ignoring Bobby’s words.

“I’m here now. What’s next? It’s what you wanted.”

“I wanted you dead.” Freddie growled out, glass crunching under his feet as he shifted closer to Buck.

“I get that. What about them? What about him?” Bobby raised his voice, gesturing towards Buck. “He’s got parents, a sister, a husband, and he never did anything to you. He wasn’t even a firefighter when your father burned down his restaurant.”

“Collateral damage.” The kid smirked, a dead look in his eyes as he took a couple steps back. “You’ll never feel half the pain you made me feel, but this is a start.”

Buck felt his breathing pick up as panic spread through him, watching with growing horror as the kid lifted his leg and then—

Buck let out a blood-curdling scream as the agony in his leg increased ten-fold, desperately clawing his hands into the asphalt in an attempt to get away  _ away  _ **_away_ ** from the pain. The intense pressure on his leg left Buck absolutely sure that the truck was going to cut through him,  but after what seemed like an eternity, the pressure released. Buck let out a relieved sob, pressing his forehead roughly into the ground to try and stave off some of the ache throbbing through his entire body.

“—op! Leave him out of this!” Bobby’s voice finally registered in his ears as he came back to himself. He blearily lifted his head to stare at him, his voice faint over the ringing in his head.

“No. You took my father away from me.” The kid was pissed, Buck could hear it in his voice. “You don’t get to keep him. Not when my father is gone!” he spat.

The pressure suddenly returned and the pain in his leg became excruciatingly unbearable, ripping another scream from Buck’s throat. “Help!” he sobbed, clawing at the ground again to try and pull himself away. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew it was useless. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get away, but fear and pain drove his instincts and all he could focus on was the incessant need to  _ get away _ .

Buck gasped when the pressure let up again, whimpering at the aching pain shooting up his leg in time with his racing heart. His head was clouded with pain and he choked back a terrified sob, desperately praying to whoever was listening to not let him die. He didn’t want to die. He still had so much to do, so much left he needed say to the people he loved. He couldn’t—he couldn’t go out like this, not now, not yet,  _ please _ .

“I was an innocent!” the kid screamed above him when Buck finally managed to focus enough to hear what was going on. “You took that from me! This is just a small taste of what you put me through!”

“No, no, please.” Buck gasped, pleading as he saw the kid move out of the corner of his eye. “Stop,  _ please _ . No!” he sobbed in pain as the pressure returned to his leg, screaming when he felt something crack and white, hot agony flared up his leg like every nerve was on fire. “Bobby!”

The pressure was gone as quick as it came that time, but it was too much to think through. His leg  _ ached _ , worse than the time when he was little and fell out of a tree and broke his ankle. He fisted his hand into the pavement below him, struggling to sit up as much as he could but he found he could barely lift himself an inch off the ground with his head swimming. So he gave up, pressing his cheek against the ground and breathing out a soft sob when he felt cold metal press roughly against the side of his head.

“You step any closer and he gets a bullet in his head.” the kid said calmly, his voice colder than ice.

Buck squeezed his eyes shut as tears fell down his cheeks, breathing in a shuddering sob as the gun pressed harder against his temple. He was starting to shake, his fingers and toes and leg were starting to go blissfully numb—shock, of course. But, he supposed, that didn’t really matter because he was just going to die here anyway. Not from his leg but from a fucking  _ bullet _ .

“Freddie?”

A woman’s soft voice called out, distinct and out of place in the chaos unfolding around them.

“Mom?” The gun fell slightly from his head, the cold metal barely brushing the skin of his temple. Then he heard someone scream and the gun was gone, something sounding like a fight happening next to him. His hands shook as the shouts and screams and yells seemed to get louder, his breath picking up as the panic returned like tight knot in his chest.

He flinched slightly when gentle, calloused hands suddenly cradled his face. “Buck? Buck, kid, you still with us?”

“Bobby?” He rasped, shakily reaching up with one hand.

Bobby grasped his hand tightly. “Hey, kid, glad to see you’re still with us.”

“Hurts.” he whimpered, his breath hitching in his throat. He swallowed thickly, shuddering at the taste of blood in his mouth and looked up at Bobby with tears blurring his vision. “I’m scared.” he admitted.

“I know, I know, kid. We’re going to get you out of here in one piece, I promise.” Bobby answered thickly, squeezing Buck’s hand again. He looked regretful as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against the top of Buck’s head before he got up and moved out of Buck’s sight.

“Bobby?!” The panic returned when he left. Buck coughed out another sob, struggling to get himself some leverage to push himself up. The action left him dizzy again, though, like last time, and he fell back against the ground with a groan.

“Buck, how we doing?” Hen crouched at the edge of Buck’s vision and he almost started crying again because, thank god, his team was finally here.

It took him a moment to get his mouth to move, though. “Kind of numb.” his voice cracked a little as he answered. He closed his eyes briefly, relief fighting with the pain and spreading numbness as the sounds of his team washed over him.

“Hey, hey, Buckaroo. We need you to stay with us.”

“Buck, come on, open your eyes.”

But that seemed like so much work though. Keeping his eyes closed sounded nicer. He was so… tired. Buck felt something moving around his neck and it took him way longer than he would’ve liked to realize they were putting a neck brace around him.

“Evan, baby, stay awake for me. Come on, open your eyes.”

Eddie. His voice was trembling as he talked, his hands gently cupping Buck’s cheeks and he gratefully leaned into the touch. Eddie. Christopher. Maddie. Buck’s eyes slowly fluttered open, Eddie’s worried face coming into focus in front of him.  “’m tired.” he slurred, his eyes starting to droop closed again.

“I know, honey, I know but you need to stay awake until we get you out of here.” Eddie’s voice was calm against the chaos raging in Buck’s head and he nodded without thinking. Eyes open. H-He could probably do that. Maybe.

“Alright guys, we gotta lift this thing up!” Chimney’s voice cut through the air behind him.

“Hang in there, Buck.” Hen murmured in his ear.

Buck tried to brace himself for the pain he knew was coming and felt grateful beyond words when two hands grasped his own, giving him something to ground himself too. Then the truck was moving on his leg and he screamed out his agony, squeezing the hands in his as hard as he could. His scream turned into sobs as the truck rocked on his leg. It felt like every nerve in his left leg was on fire and exploding and every instinct in Buck was shouting to  _ get away _ .

He took a shuddering gasp as the pain receded and the shouting around him grew louder. “I-I can’t do this.” he slurred out. “I-I can’t—”

He shouted again when the truck started to lift again a little, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t being lifted off his leg, Buck could  _ feel _ it grinding the bones together in his leg. He was an inconsolable mess of screaming sobs; the pain just kept coming wave after wave after  _ wave _ up his body, like tiny little stabs of pain centered on every nerve in his leg. “Stop. Stop, please, I-I can’t do this.” Buck sobbed, reaching forward with his arm, desperate to just  _ get away _ .

Buck gasped desperately as the truck settled back onto his leg, pressing his forehead hard against the ground, hoping the throbbing in his head might distract him. He screamed again. And again and again and  _ again _ before it  _ finally _ receded back to slightly manageable.

It didn’t work.

“Hang in there, Buck, hang in there.” Hen soothed, her hand brushing gently through Buck’s hair. “We’ve got people coming, look, we’re gonna get you out of here.”

Buck stared ahead, blinking his eyes sluggishly as he focused on the mass of people rushing towards him. It was… a lot of people. For him? What were they going to do? Why? They all crowded around him, along the edges of his vision he could see them lining up along the firetruck with looks of determination etched onto their faces.

“Hang in there, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, squeezing his hand tightly. “We’re gonna get you out of here babe.”

“Alright, on the count of three,” Buck heard Bobby begin and terror shot down his spine, making his breath hitch and his eyes squeeze shut. No, no, no, not again it was too much—too much pain, he couldn’t keep  _ doing _ this! He was exhausted and sore and  _ ached _ , he didn’t want to do this anymore!

But the universe was deaf to his pleas as the agonizing pain on his leg returned. Searing pain consumed him and he found himself unable to do anything but sobbed as it throbbed up his body, but—someone was pulling him forward. He was  _ moving _ . Full of desperate hope, Buck squeezed tighter to the hands dragging him across the asphalt, away from the truck, unable to choke back his screams as his crushed leg was dragged across the ground.

There was more shouting and cheering, followed by a loud thud behind him as he was gently flipped onto his back. His leg was jostled slightly and he groaned at the movement, followed by a soft whine when Hen and Eddie let go of his hands.

“Alright, we’re going to lift him on this board on the count of three,” Buck heard Chimney’s voice next to his ear. “One, two, three!”

Hands underneath quickly lifted him up onto a spine board. Buck let out a weak moan of pain when someone lifted his crushed leg up with him. He could feel himself slipping, growing light-headed from the pain now that he wasn’t stuck under the truck anymore, the shock was starting to settle in, starting as a deep numbness in his bones and growing.

He reached up blindly to grab onto someone, something as they lifted him up onto a gurney. He couldn’t go out like this. They needed him to stay awake, he knew, he needed to stay awake because if his leg—

“Come on, Evan. Stay with us, babe.” Eddie’s voice was shaky but controlled from above him, grasping his hand tightly and giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Four minutes to the hospital, Buck. Come on, stay awake.” Hen’s voice urged him, commanding in a tone that almost brought a smile to his face. Buck tried, he really did, but as they loaded him onto the ambulance, he could feel his tenuous grip on reality starting to slip.

His head lolled to the side of the gurney, focusing his sight on Eddie as the other man crouched beside him in the ambulance. “Love you.” he slurred, his tongue heavy in his mouth. “You and Chris.”

Buck reached up towards Eddie, his arm shaking as he pressed it against his cheek, both of them uncaring at the smudge of blood his touch left as Hen gently placed the oxygen mask over his mouth.

“I love you too, okay?” Eddie placed his hand over Buck’s, his bottom lip trembling. Buck’s heart broke when he felt wetness drip onto his fingers. “But you’re going to be fine. You’ll be awake and Christopher will steal your jello and everyone’s going to be alright.”

“Two minutes, out, Buck, hanging in there?” Hen spoke next to his head, busying herself with putting together his IV.

The ambulance hit a bump, jostling his leg and Buck felt his breath hitch before he went limp, his vision blurring briefly before it went black. He could hear Eddie, Hen, and Chimney yelling at each other, their voices all blending into one, loud mess in his head before everything went blissfully silent.

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The annoying, rhythmic beeping of the heart rate machine was the first thing Buck registered when he woke up. It took more effort than he would have liked to open his eyes, it felt like someone had glued them shut. He groaned softly, blinking away the blurry vision of the hospital ceiling and tilted his head to the side of the bed.

His brow furrowed in confusion when he saw Eddie sitting in a chair by his side, staring at him with relief palpable in his expression and unshed tears shining in his eyes. “Eddie?” he questioned, his voice rough and sore. “You-You’re here?”

Eddie squeezed his hand gently, reaching up with his other hand to brush his fingers across the bangs in Buck’s face. “Of course, baby. I wouldn’t be anywhere else but here.”

“What—” Buck licked his lips, trying to think through the fuzz and pain in his head. “What happened? Why am I in the hospital?”

An unreadable expression crossed Eddie’s face as he squeezed Buck’s hand tightly. “You don’t remember?”

“The bomb.” Buck said suddenly, like a light bulb flickering on in his brain, his breath hitched as his heart started to race. The bomb. The kid. His leg. His  _ leg _ . Buck struggled to sit up, looking down at where his leg was resting on a pillow, the cast going from his toes all the way up to his thigh. A sort of numb surprise spread through his chest at the sight—every time he blinked, he kept expecting the cast to be gone, for his crushed leg to be splayed out in front of him at impossible angles and almost unrecognizable as a part of himself.

“Okay, okay, okay, Evan, it’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.” Eddie said comfortingly, pressing a careful hand on Buck’s chest to make him lay back against the cot.

Buck couldn’t drag his eyes away from his cast. It was…strange to look at. From his toes all the way up to the middle of his thigh was tightly casted in a dreary, depressing white, carefully resting on a large pillow and suspended to the ceiling by wires. He found it was starting to ache, as his brain processed what he was seeing and sharp pain rocketed up his leg when he tried to wiggle his toes.

“Surgery went well,” Eddie murmured, running his hand gently through Buck’s matted hair. “They put in a titanium rod and four screws. Christopher is jealous,” he added, but Buck could barely hear him over the roaring of blood in his ears. “Says you’re like Wolverine now.”

It must have been obvious he was starting to go into shock. His chest felt tight and heavy like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs fast enough and his vision blackened around the edges, narrowing until the only thing he could see was that damned cast covering his leg. He could hear Eddie’s voice like a vague, annoying buzzing to the side and he twisted his hands tightly into the sheets, startling slightly when one of them digs into warm flesh—only then remembering Eddie was still holding his hand.

Then there was a warm pressure on his cheek and abruptly his tunneled vision was full of Eddie’s alarmed. His mouth was moving, but Buck still couldn’t understand what he was saying. All he could think about was the weeks of being forced to wear this cast, the months of barely being able to walk, the years of physical therapy he will have to go through, the countless other possible surgeries he might have to get.

He wouldn’t be able to be a firefighter.

For months, at least. Possibly more than a year. No matter how fast it heals, no matter how hard he pushes himself, Buck knows about injuries. Knows them intimately, like an old friend, like the way Maddie knows screams and fists. No matter how it is sugarcoated, no matter how hard he tries, there would always be the possibility that—

His mind couldn’t even finish the sentence. It was so impossible, so unfathomable he didn’t even have the words to describe what would happen.

“Evan!” Eddie’s voice sharply cut through the fog he had been trapped in. His face was hovering barely inched from Buck’s face, creases of concern in his forehead and muddling the color of his eyes. It was then that Buck became aware of Eddie’s hands cradling his cheeks, his thumbs gently brushing over his cheekbones at the tears Buck hadn’t even been aware he was shedding.

“Breathe, baby.” He heard Eddie murmur, watched the way his tongue and lips carefully formed the words like he was watching in slow motion. His brain was slow on the uptake though, and several moments passed with Buck staring at Eddie through wide eyes before his mouth finally opened and he inhaled deeply.

Eddie’s shoulders slumped in relief and his eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment before they opened again. “Okay, good, just keeping breathing, baby, just like that.”

Buck did, or, at least, he tried to keep his breathing even, but with his vision no longer tunneled, his eyes kept wandering back down to his cast. His earlier thoughts reared their ugly faces back in his head and he was powerless to stop the sobs that built up in his chest. His breath hitched as the tears started dripping down his cheeks and he all but collapsed into the gentle embrace Eddie pulled him into.

“We’ll get through this, Evan.” he murmured softly, one hand wrapped carefully around Buck’s waist and the other lightly massaging the back of his skull where his hand cradled Buck’s head against his shoulder. “Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Buck wished he had his lover’s optimism. He really, really did. But all he could think about was the looming, dark clouds full of knowledge that he wasn’t going to be able to walk, let alone be a firefighter—for months. His entire livelihood, his entire reason for waking up in the morning and getting out of bed, the only damned good thing he was capable of doing. It was all gone. Ripped away from him in the seconds it took that bomb to go off and for him to get stuck underneath that truck.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there but eventually, Buck must have cried himself to sleep because the next thing he knows he’s waking up and the lights in his room have dimmed considerably behind his eyelids. He groaned at the pain in his head before he had even fully awakened, his hand instinctively reaching up to the right side of his face with the intent to try and lessen the pressure building in his temple.

Warm fingers gently enclosed his wrist before he could touch his head, though, carefully forcing it back down next to his side. “Careful, kid. You’re going to tear those stitches open again.”

“Pops?” Buck mumbled thickly, wincing at the knives that seemed to cut against his throat when he spoke.

Without warning, a blessedly cold ice chip was pressed against his lips and he opened his mouth eagerly, humming his content as the ice melted in his mouth and the water soothed his throat. He ate two more, unaware of the passage of time, before he finally felt like he could peel his eyes open enough to see who was in the room.

The room was darker then it had been earlier, like he had suspected, illuminated only by the gentle glow of a lamp by his bedside. The room was silent aside from the soft beeping of the machines next to him and the oxygen tube he was wearing around his face. Buck tilted his head to the side, a tired smile curling the edges of his lips when he saw Bobby sitting there. “Bobby?” he rasped, his hand shaking slightly as he lifted it up and placed on the man’s knee.

Bobby had been staring unseeingly at the ground, exhaustion dug into his face in a way that seemed to make him older than Buck was used to seeing him. He jerked his head up, though, at Buck’s touch, one hand automatically reaching up to cover Buck’s. “Hey kid.” he smiled, some of the worry lines disappearing off his face. “You’re awake this time.”

“This time?” Buck repeated, his face twisting into a frown as he tried to think through the haze of fog in his brain of the last time he woke up. He remembered Eddie, carefully avoiding thinking about his leg and sending him spiraling again, but he didn't remember waking up any time after that.

“You’ve been pretty out of it since they drugged you back up again.” Bobby replied. “We’ve been worried about you, kid.”

Buck let out a deep breath, ignoring the ache in his chest the movement caused. “Where—Where is Maddie? Eddie?”

“Maddie just went out to get some coffee.” Bobby murmured, placing a comforting hand on Buck’s shoulder. “And that firecracker Carla came in and managed to convince Eddie to go home to see Christopher, shower, and get something to eat after you woke up.”

“Bobby—” Buck began, but the words he wanted to ask were stuck lodged inside his throat.

Bobby knew what he was going to ask, anyway. “Surgery went as well as they could have hoped.” he murmured, the hand on his shoulder tightening slightly. “They had to insert a titanium rod and four screws, but the doctor assured me he was confident you would be able to walk again.”

His breath left his lungs in one big whoosh when Bobby said that, and allowed his eyes to close for a moment, the relief of knowing he would walk again was almost overwhelming. But when he opened his eyes again, there was another, more nagging question in his head. “Will—Will I be able to work again?” Buck asked quietly, his eyes searching, pleading for Bobby to give him the answer he wanted to hear.

There was a sudden fondness in Bobby’s gaze that took Buck slightly off guard when he answered, “Buck, not even the end of the world would prevent you from going back to work. You’re too stubborn.” His hand moved from Buck’s shoulder and into his hair, threading through the thick tangle of curls while he continued speaking, “Don’t go borrowing trouble, not yet. Just focus on resting and getting stronger, everything else will fall into place. Have faith, Buckaroo.”

Buck let out a long sigh and leaned into Bobby’s touch, humming softly in contentment as the man gently massaged his scalp, though he was careful to keep his fingers from brushing up against his temple. “Bobby, who was that kid? Why did he—” Buck swallowed thickly, his mind briefly flashing back to the excruciating pain in his leg when the kid was behind him. “What happened?”

The hand in Buck’s hand stilled but before he had a chance to even frown, it continued slowly combing through his hair. “Just an angry kid, Buck. Angry at the world, angry at me, and he thought I was going to be on that firetruck. And when he didn’t get what he wanted, he took it out on you to try and get to me.”

Buck wanted to press, wanted to know why this kid had so much anger in him and why he was after Bobby. But he was tired and had more important things to worry about, so he let the subject drop.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while after that, Buck dozing lightly until he heard the door to his room slowly open. Opening his eyes, Buck smiled tiredly as he watched Maddie walk in the room, a cup of coffee in one hand and looking about as tired as he did. Chimney was following her, holding a cup of coffee in each hand and looking mildly better than anyone else he’s seen so far.

“Evan! Oh my gosh, you’re awake!” Maddie rushed over to his side, putting her coffee down on the side table and leaning over to hug him as gently as possible.

Buck hummed and leaned into her touch, though he did wrinkle his nose slightly when she moved back from the hug and pressed a wet kiss to his forehead. “Gross, Maddie,” he complained, wiping at his forehead with his palm. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

Maddie rolled her eyes at his comment, a tearful smile still on her face. “How’re feeling?” she asked, sitting down on the empty chair next to his bed and taking his hand in hers.

“Tired.” Buck shrugged, averting his gaze and studying the different tubes and wires connected to the back of his hands. “Dunno. My entire body feels like one big bruise.”

“The doctors said after another day or so of observation that you would be free to go back home,” she said, relief obvious in her voice.

Buck looked up at that, surprise flickering over his face. “Really? That soon?”

“Well, they got through all the difficult stuff when they did the surgery on your leg.” Maddie explained, her voice careful. He noticed she was avoiding looking at the ugly cast he had around his left leg, and, really, he couldn’t blame her. He didn’t want to look at it either. “They told me that they wanted to make sure there isn’t any swelling in your cast over the next day, and if everything looks good, they said they’ll send you home with some pain meds for your leg and head and you’d be good to go.”

“What about my other injuries?” he asked, all too aware of the ache in his head he’s been pointedly ignoring since he woke.

“Nothing else broken, thank God.” Maddie chuckled. “They said your ribs are lightly bruised from the explosion and they suspected a possible concussion from the blow your head took when you landed on the street.”

Buck squeezed her hand to acknowledge he heard her before he let himself rest back against the bed, unable to hold back a small sigh. “Your head still hurting?” Bobby asked quietly, gently resting his hand over Buck’s forehead.

“Yeah, a bit,” Buck admitted, leaning into the cool touch of Bobby’s hand against his forehead.

“Why don’t you try and get some rest, Evan.” Maddie said softly, rubbing her thumb gently over the back of his hand. “We’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“Mmkay.” he murmured, relenting against the force pulling him deeper into the mattress. “Eddie?”

“Yeah, he’ll be here baby brother, I promise.” Maddie trailed off her promise into a quiet hum, one Buck vaguely remembered she used to sing to him when he was younger and couldn’t fall asleep over the shouting downstairs. He let it consume him now as he did then, drowning out the various noises from the machines and the soft murmurs of Bobby and Chimney talking. It didn’t take long for him to fall back into the clutches of sleep.

* * *

When Buck next woke, he was in a lot more pain. He blearily opened his eyes, head already angled towards the chair to his left and couldn’t help but smile tiredly when he saw who was sitting there. “Hey, Christopher.” he rasped.

“Hi.” Christopher smiled, swinging his feet absently in the air while he sat in the too tall chair. “Daddy said you had two surgeries.” He held up his fingers up when he said it, face scrunched in concentration.

“I’m catching up to you then, bud,” Buck cracked a smile, for a moment warm fondness distracting him from his pain. He paused for a second, blinking the blurriness out of his eyes as he focused more carefully on Christopher—writing on his leg? “What’re you doing?”

“Chimney said I should draw on your cast. He said it would make you happy.” Christopher explained without looking up, his tiny tongue poking out of the side of his mouth as he carefully dragged his sharpie over a section of Buck’s cast. “Almost done.” he promised.

“I can’t wait to see it, kiddo.” Buck said, ignoring the lump of emotion that closed up his throat. “Do—Where’s your Daddy at?”

“Right here.”

Buck looked up when he heard Eddie’s voice, slightly out of breath as he rushed into the hospital room carrying a large cup of coffee. “Come on, bud. Carla’s here to take you home, alright? You got to talk to Buck and draw on his cast, so now you have to go home and sleep.”

Christopher scrunched up his face, looking like he was about to argue but a quick look from Eddie melted all the fight in him. He quickly scribbled something on Buck’s cast before he carefully capped the pen and handed it to Eddie. Slowly, he slid off his chair and stood at the edge of Buck’s bed, reaching forward and carefully looping his arms around Buck’s neck.

Tears pricked at the edges of Buck’s eyes as he gently hugged the boy back, ignoring how his chest protested at the slightest movement. “Go get some sleep, Chris. I’ll still be here when you wake up.” he murmured, fondly ruffling the kids hair as he pulled back from the hug.

“Later, gator.” Christopher said quietly as he started walking away with Eddie.

“In an hour, sunflower,” Buck answered, matching Christopher’s shy grin as he walked out of his room and into the hallway where, presumably, Carla was waiting.

Once he was sure he was gone, Buck let himself sink back into his cot and verbalize with a groan the pain throbbing through his entire body. Apparently, the nurse hadn’t come in and given him more pain meds. Figures. The nasty Buckley luck keeping up with him, it would seem. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Buck spotted a small cup of pills on his nightstand along with a glass of water, along with a carefully scribbled note.

Curious, Buck reached over to grab the note and cup of pills, immediately recognizing Maddie’s careful script on the note. It was a carefully detailed list of what each pill in the cup was, what it was called, what it was for, and how it might make him feel after he takes them.

Not for the first time, Buck feels a wave of gratitude and love for his older sister, always watching out for him and knowing what he needs before he even has a chance to voice it. Placing the note to the side, he downs the handful of pills in one gulp, chasing it down with the water at his bedside and grimacing slightly at the rawness of his throat. All that screaming really did a number on his throat, he thought as he reached up to rub at it

“Hey, sweetheart,” Buck looked up as Eddie walked in, walking over and taking a seat in the chair Christopher had been occupying, dragon it closer to the side of his bed. “How’re you feeling?” he asked softly, reaching up to take Buck’s hand.

“Better.” He answered, lowering his hand from his throat and averting his eyes. He couldn’t stop thinking about the last time Eddie was in here. How much of a mess he was. “Sorry about… earlier.” he said with a lame wave of his hand.

“You never have to apologize for that,” Eddie answered, squeezing Buck’s hand for emphasis. “Honestly,” he added, smiling slightly, “I would have been more worried if you hadn’t freaked out.”

“So,” Buck said after a moment, finally looking back up at Eddie with a tired smile. “Wolverine, huh?”

“You’re his hero,” Eddie said simply, reaching up and cupping the side of his face, his thumb lightly brushing below a stitched up cut on his cheek.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Eds.” Buck admitted after a long stretch of comfortable silence, suddenly anxious to spit out what’s on his chest. “I-I know they said I’ll walk again, but all those weeks with this cast, maybe another surgery, the months of PT I’ll have to do—” Buck was a firefighter. He wasn’t ignorant to the struggles that happen to people after he hands them off to the hospital and the thought of going through all that struggle—it terrified him. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

And damn, if that didn’t hurt to admit. But all those months of struggling to even move without pain, relearning how to walk, was incredibly daunting and even he didn’t have a large enough ego to believe it would be smooth sailing once he got out of the hospital.

“We’ll get through it.” Eddie said firmly, squeezing Buck’s hand. “Together. You’ll never be alone in this, Evan.”

“Thanks.” Buck said quietly, briefly closing his eyes against the immense relief that flooded through him. It wasn’t that he doubted Eddie’s commitment to him but, well, it was still soothing to his frayed emotions to hear him say it out loud.

“Christopher might be more than a little excited when he found out you’ll be using crutches for a while.” Eddie admitted, making Buck open his eyes to see his small, sheepish smile. “I mean, he’s sad you got hurt, but he’s already declared he’s gonna give you lessons on how to use your crutches when you get home.”

“So I probably shouldn’t tell him this isn’t my first time using crutches?” he guessed, endlessly amused by the young kid’s antics.

“When else have you had to use them?” Eddie asked curiously.

“When he twisted his ankle when he was nine after climbing up a tree to try and save a cat. When he was sixteen and sprained his knee after he tried to jump over the catcher to make it to the home plate.” Maddie’s voice filtered into the room, sounding more amused than Buck would’ve appreciated at the moment.

“I still made the score.” Buck grumbled, but couldn’t fight the smile as Maddie walked in and sat on his other side, Chimney following close behind.

“He was obsessed with  _ High School Musical _ .” Maddie explained to Eddie, grinning as she ignored Buck’s protesting whines. “When he saw the baseball scene in the second movie, he was determined to reenact it as soon as he could at one of his baseball games. It just… didn't quite turn out the way he wanted.”

“Yeah, well, I got to take the hottest guy to prom that year because he was so impressed.” Buck shot back, a smug grin forming on his face.

“Don’t remind me.” Maddie shuddered dramatically. “I should never have let the four of you borrow my car."

“Glad you’re feeling better, Buck.” Chimney said, changing the subject as he briefly leaned over Maddie’s shoulder and gently patted Buck’s good leg.

Buck smiled tiredly back at him. “Thanks, Chim.”

The older man broke into chuckles when he peered over at Buck’s casted leg, an amused glint in his eyes when he spoke, “Looks like Christopher took my advice and started to decorate your cast for you.”

“I saw he was drawing something when I woke up.” Buck shifted in the bed, trying to lean up enough so he could look at where Christopher drew. Unfortunately, a sharp pain shooting through his chest made him groan and a gentle hand was pressing on his shoulders firmly so he was resting back down in his cot.

“Don’t try to move so much.” Maddie chastised, though there was worry shining in her eyes. “Your leg wasn’t the only thing injured, silly.”

“Here, I’ll take a picture and show you.” Eddie said, snapping a quick picture of Buck’s cast on his phone before leaning over to show Buck, their shoulders brushing slightly. 

Buck laughed when he saw the picture, tears springing in his eyes as his heart swelled with love for that kid. He’d drawn a little dinosaur, a stegosaurus, Buck’s favorite, even though Christopher preferred the T-Rex with their strong legs. Next to the picture was a hastily scribbled,

 

> get better soon, papa!
> 
>  
> 
> Love, Christopher  
>    
> 

“I guess this means everyone is going to have to sign it, huh?” Buck asked, glancing up from the picture. His gaze zeroed in on Maddie's mischievous grin and felt himself blanch when she pulled various different colored permanent markers from her purse.

“You didn’t think you were going to get out of here before we all signed it, did you?” she asked, raising her eyebrow and looking condescending in a way only an older sibling would manage to get away with.

Buck groaned good-naturedly but allowed himself to laugh and relax with everyone else as they took turns signing his leg. It seemed to devolve from there, turning into a competition to who could write or draw the most ridiculous thing that would make Buck laugh the most.

Throughout the day, as the rest of his team filtered in to check on him and sign his leg, he started to catch on to what they were doing. Keeping him laughing, distracting him as much as they could from the pain he was in, the situation he was stuck in. Bobby and Athena, along with Athena’s kids, sat in his room for a couple hours, trading stories back and forth as the kids giggled and took a suspiciously long time to draw and sign Buck’s cast. Carla brought delicious homemade cookies when she came back with Christopher, entertaining everyone with hilarious stories she about her own kids antics when they were younger.

And then there was Eddie. A constant, solid presence by Buck’s side throughout everything. He stayed as everyone came and went, stayed as the doctors came and gently spoke to him about his options and the possibility of another surgery. He wasn’t sure what he would do without him.

Luckily, he thought as he gazed down at their hands threaded together tightly, the sun glinting off their wedding bands, he wouldn’t have to find out any time soon.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hello! wow, I've been working on this since the finale! Anyway, I was just curious to explore what Buck might have been thinking during this scene, and of course, I felt we were robbed of fire fam scenes thanks to Alli (>:( ) so this is my solution.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this! Comments and kudos make my world go 'round!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Another Head Hangs Lowly, Child Is Slowly Taken... and the Violence Causes Silence (Who Are We Mistaken?)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21026558) by [Huntress8611](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress8611/pseuds/Huntress8611)




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